


Trans-Atlantic Partnership

by butterscotchnotebook



Series: Keeping Secrets [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Other, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, everything works out in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7836709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterscotchnotebook/pseuds/butterscotchnotebook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haytham isn't ready for anyone to find out yet.<br/>The universe has other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dodge

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this after reading a bunch of hurt/comfort fics, because I need more sad Haytham in my life. Basically, I hurt my children and then fix them again because I love them and can't stand to see them hurt.  
> Shut up, I'm not an over-protective momma hen.

Haytham was an intelligent man, who's understanding and wealth of knowledge would impress many. He was a tactician without peer.

The only thing he couldn't understand, however, was himself.

He's never understood the gut feeling that his body just... Wasn't right.

"This isn't mine," he would think, as he looked himself over. These curves weren't his. They were meant for another.  
He'd expressed the thought to his father at a young age, but was met with a laugh and a "you'll get over it."

He'd never gotten over it.

Thirty or so years later, he sits lamenting over the fact in his study, head in his palm, staring out the window his desk is situated in front of. His work lay in front of him, begging for his attention, but his mind resided elsewhere. He wondered, perhaps, what his life would have been like if he'd "gotten over it" like his father had said he would.

Probably stuck in some marriage with a man he didn't love, and taking care of children.

He chuckled at that.

A shallow cough interrupted his daydreaming and he stiffened. He got to his feet to greet the one who'd interrupted him. It was Shay.

"Cormac, how nice of you to drop by, unannounced I might add," Haytham said in a monotone voice. Shay pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"I spoke your name no less than four times, Master Kenway." Haytham made a noise, and clasped his hands behind his back.

"My apologies, Cormac. How did you fare on the last mission I sent you on?" Shay made a noise of irritation at the mention.

"Slippery little bastards, they were. It took quite some time to corner them. They begged for mercy when I picked 'em off, the dogs. Tails between their legs, sniveling and whining." Shay curled a gloved hand into a fist. "One of them belittled you, Master Kenway."

Haytham stopped his pacing, which he hadn't noticed he'd even begun doing, and turned to face his comrade.

"What did they say, exactly? Word for word."

"They'd said you were selfish, looking out only for yourself, all that hogwash..." Shay trailed off. "But they'd said, all of them, that you were a selfish woman."

Haytham felt a rush of dread and fear course through him. Shit, Shay was going to figure it out and despise him, of this he was certain. His work, his entire life, was going to crumble because of those damned assassins.

"Must've been drunk," Shay concluded with a clap of his hands and a laugh. "There's no way you could be a woman."

Haytham silently thanked the Father for how narrowly he dodged that bullet.

He breathed a sigh of relief and a chuckle pushed past his lips.

"Well, Shay, I'm sorry to have to rush you out but I must get back to my work. I've got lots of it, and I'm sure Monro will want you for something sooner or later." Shay raised a quizzical brow but bid farewell to the Grandmaster nonetheless. When Shay was out of earshot, he heaved a heavy sigh and sank into the desk chair.

"T'was a close one there," he thought. He hoped he wouldn't have to dodge any more bullets like that any time soon.


	2. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth will out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone asks, the fic title is supposed to sound like Trans-Pacific Partnership. But I chose Atlantic because Ireland is across the Atlantic. And Trans for reasons you've probably already figured out.

"Grandmaster, there is something we must discuss at once." Shay burst in to the room with a leather-bound book in hand. He closed the door with his foot and Haytham made a noise of indignation, but Shay paid no mind to it.

"Read this entry," He urged, flipping the book and pointing out the specific paragraph. "Aloud, if you will." Haytham gave an irritated huff and a confused look, but did as asked.

The date of the entry read December 4th, 1725.

"My wife gave birth to our second child today. A darling little girl. Quite a fighter, crying and kicking as I held her. She reminded me much of myself in personality, but she looked more like her mother than I. All she got from me was her eyes, which were a chilly shade of blue." He tried not to let his voice lilt when he read, barely passing it off as cool and collected, while Shay peered over his shoulder with insatiable curiosity.

"And this one." He took up the book and flipped through the yellowed pages, weathered with time, and laid the book before Haytham again. The date on this one was July 27th, 1733.

"My youngest daughter came to me with interesting questions today. She asked me if I felt comfortable in my body. An odd question for a child to ask, but I answered anyways. I told her yes, I was. She confessed that she wasn't comfortable with hers, that she felt more... Boyish, than the other girls. I chuckled, and told her that she shouldn't need to worry so much, that it would pass."

"What does this have to do with-"

"Its your father's journal, Master Kenway."

Shay closed the book. Haytham felt himself begin to tremble. He was over.

"Why did you never tell me?" Shay asked as he looked into Haytham's blue eyes. Haytham said nothing, only stood there, shaking violently.

"I... I didn't- I didn't want anyone to know. You know how women are viewed in this world. I was never a god damned woman. This accursed body isn't mine! It never was!" He felt angry years begin to pour down his cheeks, but he couldn't be bothered to stop them anymore. He sank to the floor, sobbing. "It never was..."

He heard the rustle of Shay's clothes as he came to sit in front of him. He didn't dare look up at him, for fear of the dangerous look on his face.

"Haytham. Look at me," Shay urged gently, and when he didn't get a response from the crying man in front of him, he tipped his chin up to look straight into the deep brown pools of brown that were Shay's eyes, Shay's gorgeous, captivating eyes. Haytham's were red, puffy from crying, and tears still ran down his face as he looked into those eyes.

"I do not hate you, nor think you mad. I do not understand your predicament, but I do not hate you for it. Haytham, you have no idea how much I admire you, and I shall never cease to, for as long as I live. Even if you are different." Shay wore a loving smile as he looked into the orbs of cold blue. He kissed the tears away.

"Haytham, I love you more than you will ever know. Nothing shall ever change that." He drew the Grandmaster into a hug and he could only sob harder, but at least now it was for another reason.

He wasn't despised. He was loved by the very person he thought would persecute him.

He was loved.

He found himself returning the embrace and kissing Shay, and in the rush, he almost forgot that, as an elite in the Order, he was barred from whatever this was. He couldn't bring himself to care. Only when he regained a stable state of mind mind did he draw himself away. He couldn't find the words to properly thank Shay. The Irishman laughed heartily at Haytham's fussing over a thanks, and waved it off.

"It's perfectly fine, Master Kenway. You needn't worry about thanking me. You have been there for me time and time again; I figure it's high time I helped you, for a change."

The two didn't bother leaving the study that night. They felt comfortable in each other's arms, and were none too willing to part any time soon.

As Shay's breathing began to slow and his body relax, Haytham took to gazing out the window of the study, watching the stars twinkle in the moonlight.

He thanked the Father for the bullet he'd failed to dodge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all of those who haven't noticed, December 4th, 1725 is Haytham's birthdate.


End file.
